


Artistic Musings

by laurenwrites



Series: Artistic Musings [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenwrites/pseuds/laurenwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras becomes irritated with Grantaire's apparent disregard for real work, Grantaire challenges Enjolras to draw him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artistic Musings

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from my friend, casinabox on Tumblr. For anyone that wishes to know, I'm talkofrevolution on Tumblr.

‘Grantaire, you know you could do some _actual_ work instead of just -’ Enjolras frowned at the other man from his seat across the table. He couldn’t quite understand the concept of wasting time – every other person had heavy text books, essays or in Jehan’s case, a thick spiral bound notebook, sprawled out in front of them. Grantaire, however, had been sketching various members of _Les Amis_ at the table for the past thirty minutes, although so far he’d only managed Jehan and Combeferre. Nonetheless, his hands were black with charcoal as he smudged the lines and contours of his next victim, Enjolras.

‘I’m an art major, what exactly do you think we _do_ in Art?’ Grantaire didn’t even lift his head as he replied. He merely continued drawing, perfectly capturing Enjolras’ current scowl, seemingly from memory. 

‘Nothing, apparently.’ Enjolras mumbled to himself, running a single hand through his hair in frustration. He didn’t like the feeling of being observed, especially when he was actually trying to work. However, when he looked down at his paper, he attempted to focus. Grantaire, doing his upmost to provide distraction, was now starting directly at Enjolras with an expression of thought. ‘Look, can you just do something? I can’t work with you - ’

‘Draw me.’ Grantaire pulled out a blank page of his sketchbook, sliding it across the table along with a pencil. He’d rightly guessed that Enjolras wouldn’t want to handle the untidy, black charcoal. ‘I challenge you, Enjolras – master of all, to draw me. Surely if it’s so _easy_ , you wouldn’t mind demonstrating you apparent talent for the arts.’

Grantaire grinned – a smug smile firmly planted on his face as he leaning back in his seat, arms folded.  Enjolras, surprised by the other man’s sudden plan, remained decidedly silent. Despite this, the glare on his face spoke volumes.

‘What’s wrong, would you like me to pose?’ Grantaire leaned across the table, his face suspended on his hands as he looked up at Enjolras; wide-eyed and seemingly innocent. ‘Maybe I can take off my shirt, and - ’

‘That won’t be necessary.’ His response was quick, each word running into the next. And if he appeared to blush, that was _certainly_ the lighting. Enjolras took the pencil in his hand, feeling somewhat uncomfortable as Grantaire laughed and sat back in his chair once again.

For the first time, Enjolras really looked at Grantaire. He noted the knitted red cap the covered only half of his wildly messy, raven curls. His clothing was slightly dishevelled, the deep green of the plaid shirt directly contrasting with the red of the cap. Enjolras was subconsciously reminded of Christmas. His posture was truly awful and he slouched in his chair, arms folded once again. The expression on his face was that of an amused child, his lazy and lopsided grin becoming the focus of his face. However, as he looked at his eyes, he noticed the prominent pale blue hues of his irises. Grantaire raised an eyebrow, clearly challenging him.

Enjolras hadn’t drawn anything since he was a child, but it couldn’t be _that_ hard. Other people did it all the time; _Grantaire_ did it all the time.

So he put pencil to paper and began by attempting an outline. From the first line he drew, Enjolras quickly realised that this was perhaps harder than it looked. His shapes were heavily drawn from pressing too hard on the pencil which seemed to bend in his hand. Enjolras scowled at the page as he tried to understand how his eyes could see one thing, but his hands another.

Still, he continued drawing by attempting Grantaire’s face. In all honesty, his version currently resembled a demonic circus clown, tiny eyes and abundant curls completely unbalanced by the insultingly huge mouth. The again, Enjolras thought this might not be too far from accurate. Grantaire _certainly_ had a sizable mouth of his own.

If the actual task of drawing wasn’t bad enough, Enjolras kept smudging his completed sections with his palm. Dark grey shadowing currently covered his right hand, a small detail he completely forgot as he brushed the hair out of his eyes. Grantaire bit back a laugh as he watched, Enjolras completely oblivious to the marks on his face.

As he finished his _artwork_ Enjolras sighed, frowning at the monstrosity in front of him.  Grantaire worked to keep his face impassive as he turned the drawing around to get a better look.  

‘That’s really _something -’_ He paused, feigning a cough to stifle his laughter. ‘I think you missed your true calling, Enjolras. Clearly you’re a creative genius! How could I ever possibly live up to _this_?’

Enjolras rolled his eyes, not amused by the other man’s mocking sarcasm. He groaned as Grantaire held the drawing up to his face, trying to replicate the awkward, wonky expression of his fictitious counterpart. This incited sniggers from Courfeyrac, Jehan and Eponine who were clearly enjoying the show from their table.

Enjolras leant across the table, taking back his drawing with a huff. He was about to screw it up when Grantaire launched himself in his direction.

‘Absolutely not, I’m keeping that!’ He carefully took the sketch from Enjolras, folding it up and placing it gently into his shirt pocket. Enjolras’ eyes widened, not quite understanding why anyone would want to keep such a thing. He tilted his head slightly; silently questioning the other man’s judgement. Grantaire smiled and shrugged before taking his seat once again. ‘Enjolras originals are very rare, you see.’

Despite himself, Enjolras couldn’t help but subtly smile in response.

‘I _might_ have been a little hasty in my judgement.’ He picked up his coffee, taking a sip before continuing. ‘It wasn’t as easy as you led me to believe; entirely your fault I think you’ll find.’

‘Wait a second, was -’ He hesitated, appearing to shake his head slightly in disbelief. ‘Was that an actual _compliment_?’

‘Make of it what you will; I for one have things to do.’

Enjolras picked up his pen and continued writing his paper, Grantaire sat in a stunned silence for a few minutes before he continued sketching Enjolras. He didn’t miss the smile that refused to leave Grantaire’s features, and he didn’t even complain about being closely observed. Enjolras merely wrote, only stopping to taste his coffee and hazard a glance at the growing picture resting on Grantaire’s knee. He had to admit, however unwillingly, that he had real talent.

_Perhaps he had been wrong._


End file.
